We woke up early in Heraklion, packed our bags and were out the door by 05h45 in order to return the rental car and make it to the ferry terminal for our boat to Santorini. There were some communication issues from the ferry company about the departure time, but after a bit of delay we were on the (very nice) ferry boat and underway to what is arguably one of the most famous islands in the world.

We purposely chose Santorini as our final stop in the counter-clockwise tour of Greece, renting an private Airbnb for three nights that gave us incredible views of the bay. Once the ferry docked we located a taxi that would take us to the far side of the island, a tiny village called Imerovigli that is literally built into the steep cliffs of the island. With a western facing view, the village is nicknamed "the balcony to the Aegean Sea". By the time we arrived it was nearly noon, and the temperatures had climbed into the low 90s. We located our Airbnb host and walked down the narrow corridors and steep staircases to find our apartment, a white-washed cave-home that was built into the side of the rocky island. Our porch had two relaxing patio chairs and a four person hot tub, and looked as absolutely incredible as it had on the internet when we selected it. For the cost of this place (nearly $700 USD per night due to the peak tourist season visit), we had decided that most of our time in Santorini would be spent on the porch and relaxing in the cool apartment.

Ferry to Santorini

Arriving at Athinios Port

Our Incredible Airbnb View

We spent the next three days relaxing on the island, visiting the hundreds of little shops, watching sunset in the small village of Oia just a few miles north, and eating the narrow variety of food that Greece seems to offer. Hiking around Oia showed us the famous windmills that the town is known for, as well as the three blue-domed houses that are now world famous. With the cruise ships arriving early in the morning and departing in the late afternoon, we spent most of our days at our apartment soaking in the sun and reading our books, then heading out into town once the crowds had disappeared. There were just so many people confined to these little streets that it not only made it hard to move around, but also difficult to feel like we had any time to ourselves while exploring. I firmly believe that thanks to the advent of social media apps like Instagram and Snapchat, places in these destination cities have become overrun with travelers who just want a single photo alike what they saw online. I'm not saying that I don't do the same sometimes, but it's now at the point where these places (Santorini, Zion National Park, etc) are asking people to not travel there, simply due to the influx of tourists, many with their selfie sticks swinging around haphazardly, overwhelming the infrastructure of the island.

Thankfully the evenings relaxed the crowds and we were able to wander around between restaurants and bars, soaking up the warmth of the night and watching the starts shine overhead. After a whirlwind week and a half leading up to our visit to Santorini, it was wonderful to have nothing to do and nowhere to be. I took photographs of the famous places, and spent a while each day rotating my lens towards different buildings to try and capture a more quiet image of the island; I can only imagine what it'd be like to visit it in the shoulder seasons. The colors of the water, both abundant pools and ocean, shine brightly against the bleach white buildings that stretch as far as the eye could see. As a gift to myself I didn't write much during our stay in Santorini. It was a fantastic time, and I feel lucky to have visited such a beautiful and unique place.

After three days we got on another ferry, this one far less clean/enjoyable, and took a seven hour ride back to the port in Athens. It was quite the experience and was followed by a cluster of a situation getting to our final Airbnb, a venue that was a disaster in itself, enough that we walked back out the door and on to the Marriott Athens for a comfortable night leading up to our flight home. The next morning we took a pre-arranged taxi to the airport, and after an easy walk through security waited at the gate for our flight to board. West-bound flights from Europe are some of my least favorite, as it all takes place in sunlight and therefore feels like the longest day ever. A quick layover at New York's JFK International put us on a short jumper back to Boston, and we were back home just before midnight.

Closing thoughts

With almost a month and a half of reflection, I stand by my initial thoughts that Greece was truly a fascinating place. The variety of construction types, agriculture, people, and living circumstances were nothing short of amazing. We visited twelve cities in fourteen days, drove a few hundred miles through less traveled lands, and saw far more than I believe the average visitor to the country might see. I don't know that it's a place that I'd return to anytime soon, perhaps to traverse the northern part of the country, but otherwise this one adventure was wonderful enough for me.

It's always a pleasure to travel and see the people and things this planet is home to. I think the opportunity to experience different cultures is one of the most special privileges many people have in this world, and is one that everyone should take advantage of in whatever capacity they're able. The easy ability to hop on an airplane, get in the car, ride a bicycle, or simply walk and be somewhere else in such limited time is something we often fail to appreciate.

I recommend a Greek adventure to anyone who has never been, or anyone who has ever wanted to go. Rent a car and see the places TripAdvisor doesn't list as a must-see, relax on the world-famous beaches of Crete, hike in the wildly varied terrains, and eat as much tzatziki sauce as you can humanly manage. For me, Dani and I have checked Greece off the bucket list and are off to find the next adventure elsewhere, after all, the world is chock full of them to choose from.

​The rainy forecast came true in the early morning hours, pouring water down and shaking the small house with thunder. With no true agenda and no alarms set I woke up around 08h00, packing up my gear and taking some time to work on the blog. We had the car packed just an hour and a half later and were underway, driving through town before reaching the highway. It was fascinating for a few minutes, turning down small village roads and talking aloud about what we saw. This place, like many of the others we’ve visited so far, is tired and run down almost everywhere we look. I’d mentioned to Dani the night before at dinner that looking back at town made me feel as if I was looking at a village in Pakistan or Afghanistan. The tan washed buildings are monotonous and dirty against a dry mountainous background, overgrown weeds and vacant lots filling the space in front of us. It has been like this over and over, visible signs of the recession and government struggles in the country.

The aesthetics made town seem like another country completely

​Finding E75, the two lane highway that runs the length of the island of Crete, I shifted through the gearbox of our little BMW, finding 5th gear sufficient for our speed and the occasional hills as we moved west. Light rain came and went as I weaved around slower cars, passing wherever I wanted or felt the need. I’ve decided that the traffic laws here are non-existent. Cars drive in the lane, breakdown lane, or halfway in between with no rhyme or reason. Some do 40km while others pass at well over 120, moving out into the oncoming lane and accelerating past as many cars and trucks as they can in a single go. While slightly unnerving at the start, I’ve grown more accustomed to it over the last week and have begun doing it more on my own. Today was no exception, and I was having fun navigating us down the road as Dani watched out the window and occasionally changed the song on the radio to suit her tastes.

Around lunchtime we made it to Rethimno, a vibrant and bustling city on the edge of the sea. We find free parking down on the water and began a few hours of exploration down the narrow streets, passing small shops and restaurants, taking photos regularly and enjoying the welcomed sun shining down from above. As luck would have it, there was a break in the rain for the duration of our time in town, a wonderful gift to us that made navigating the colorful streets overgrown with green vines and saturated blooming flowers so much more enjoyable. We stopped at one restaurant for a snack, choosing a gluten free crepe with chicken, sun dried tomato, and mozzarella cheese to share. The dish was huge, but the chicken was dry which left the entire meal to be disappointing. We paid the check and moved on, back towards the car and to our final destination, all in all walking just over 4 miles during our brief visit to town.

Exploring the sights and tastes of Rethimno

​On the way out of town we took a twisty route up through the countryside past a small farm that Dani had read about. Their restaurant was closed, but we took some time to explore the stone courtyards that overlooked acres of vineyards and the ocean in the distance. Heavy rain plagued us the remaining 70km to Heraklion, but as we drove down the same coastal highway the storm clouds were beautiful in contrast to the blue grey sea they covered. Our Airbnb was nestled in the heart of the neighborhood nearest to the port, a key location given our early ferry ride to Ssantorini the following morning. The streets were so narrow and cars parked so closely together there were actually moments that our side view mirrors cleared only by half an inch on either side as I eased the clutch into first gear and crawled between the vehicle next to us and concrete buildings on the opposite sides. The apartment we rented was on the third floor of an older condo building, but had a nice view across a city park and windows protected from the rainfall outside, allowing us to leave them open and feel the cool breeze of the afternoon.

Dinner was found at a restaurant literally right outside our door, an almost-American place born and raised in the States some forty years ago. The fourth location owned by the family, Amalia’s Kitchen had an incredibly diverse menu, including a vast gluten free selection, and served our needs well for dinner. The owner and namesake, Amalia herself, came to visit or table and talked with us about her two decades living in the US, operating the restaurant started by her father in Houston back in the 70s, then moving it back to her hometown in Crete after he passed away. We talked about Boston, New York, Texas, and the restaurant itself before moving inadvertently to the more serious topics of Greece, the housing market, the government, and (lack of) police presence. The most hard hitting fact she gave us was in regards to the vacant mid-construction houses adorning every town, something she says is due to a $60,000 Euro permit fee to finish a home. Much alike a building permit in the US, maybe $125-1,000 depending on where you live, the $60k permit is required for construction but is something that nobody can afford to pay, causing these homes to be abandoned halfway through being built, left to deteriorate without much further action. The things Amalia told us really hit home just how reliant this country is on tourism, and leaves me with a lot to think about as we go into the final week of this adventure.

Making the exceptionally short walk back to the apartment we packed in preparation for the early ferry ride to Santorini. Crete has been beautiful and diverse, but I’m really quite excited to see what our next island has in store for us. ​

​When we initially read that Bolis Lagoon was an hour drive from Kissamos, we figured it was a good 40-50km away. As you might imagine, finding out it was a mere 9 miles away came with quite the shock. Leaving the Airbnb I navigated our little Beemer (a car I’m really starting to enjoy) through the quiet town and out around the bay to an area full of farming land, olive trees, and crop fields. There was one other car with what looked like tourists inside, stopped on the edge of the road asking a local for directions which, given the road and time, I assumed were to the same beach we were headed towards. Thankfully our cell phone plans have unlimited international data and we’ve been able to utilize Google Maps since we first got here, so we passed by politely and continued following the little blue digital breadcrumb trail my phone was leading us down. Not much further down the road the olive trees gave way to rocky hills as the road turned to dirt, cut into the side of the terrain with a jagged and steep cliff as the only thing between us and the deep blue water of Kissamos Harbor.

Unexpected visitors

Hiking to the beach

We followed along at a comfortable pace, Dani peering out the passenger window and reminiscing about the same feeling of driving up New Hampshire’s Mt. Washington Auto Road for the first time last fall, slightly unnerved about the pitch of the slope next to us and her proximity to the edge. Another few kilometers up the road we ran into something I wouldn’t have expected, a pack of wild mountain goats blocking the road. I creeped the car up to them as they reluctantly moved out of the way, allowing us passage towards the beach parking lot. Dust kicked up behind us as we continued on, reaching a small flat area at the end of the long dirt road where we again found ourselves in the company of only a half dozen other cars. The funny thing about this lot was the elevation and complete lack of ocean water. Not one of the blogs we had researched or photos we had seen had ever alluded to the 1.5 mile hike over the mountain at the end of the peninsula in order to make it to the beach. The hike was rocky but somewhat graded over the pass, then began a surprising 500-vertical-foot descent down to the immaculate water below us. The descent itself was done with a makeshift staircase built by the Cretans, a genius move in my opinion to prevent the degradation of the hillside by people traipsing around. The stone “path” probably works wonders to keep everyone in line, though as we descended we saw only two other couples making their way down to the waters edge. ​

Panoramic of Bolis Lagoon

Our beachfront view

Hiking down into Bolis Lagoon

​We picked out beach chairs and an umbrella and settled down for some reading and soaking in the sunshine, initially sharing the beach with maybe a dozen people. As the day progressed and sun moved across the sky, hundreds of others arrived by sailboat, ferryboat, and foot, the beach that had been so tranquil again becoming a madhouse. I thought to myself how adventures a few summers back while getting my sailing licenses had allowed me access to beaches the masses simply couldn’t get to, and how privileged I had been to experience that. It seems more and more now that places that were probably once filled with solitude are now known to the entire world with a click of their computer keyboard (we’re absolutely guilty of this too) and filled with people instead. These thoughts lingered on in my mind throughout the day, and around 15h00 we packed up and began the literal hike back to the car. The climb up was a little more difficult in the 90+ degree heat, but we made it back to the parking lot without incident, finding it overflowing with a hundred or more cars.

It took some convincing to move the mountain goats out from behind our rental car’s shade, but once they were gone and the car was packed we headed back down the long dirt road to town. I was surprised to see even more cars lining the cliff side of the already narrow route, parked as best they could in order to access the beach. Having not eaten, we stopped at an upscale hotel back towards the olive groves and had a small afternoon snack while overlooking the bay from their restaurant deck. As it turned out, our waiter's family lives in the United States and owns a very large Boston-based grocery store chain, Market Basket. He enjoyed conversation with us and even brought us free dessert before we left. The rest of the afternoon was spent doing utilitarian things like laundry and repacking, followed by great naps that brought us right up to dinner time. For simplicity and enjoyment we returned to Maria’s, the same restaurant as the night before, sharing more of the baked feta cheese, calamari, and salmon. Discussing the plans for tomorrow, we’ve decided to head out early driving back east towards Chanya, then on to explore the famous seaside town of Rethimno before making the final push to our Airbnb in the busy port town of Heraklion. ​

​Though the bunk I had was no larger than a yoga mat, sheer exhaustion led me to sleep without stirring, and wake feeling surprisingly rested when the alarm went off at 05h. Having packed our bags the night before we were ready in short order, returning the room key to the appropriate parties and standing in line with a small group by the escalators to the lower deck for our eventual exit. We waited for over half an hour as the line of people grew behind us, each seeming to be in a big rush to get somewhere. The truth was that we were too, as the rental car company couldn’t confirm availability beforehand and told us to show up the morning we arrived, hoping for the best.

Getting off the boat we managed to be the first people to grab a taxi, and 20 minutes later were at the sleepy Crete Chanya (the latter pronounced with a silent “C”) International Airport. So early were we that the rental car desks weren’t even open, and we waited a while for the rental agent to arrive. The only availability was for a more luxury midsize, which would come with an extra $50 cost. Not feeling the need to argue over the price, we agreed and were off in no time to find a beach. The ‘more luxury’ vehicle is a midnight blue BMW 116i, a diesel powered six-speed that proved being worthy of its German descent just minutes later while merging onto the islands’ main highway. Our destination was Elafonisi Beach, famous around the world for its pink sand and turquoise waters washing in from the Mediterranean. The drive took nearly two hours of our early morning, the majority of which was spent navigating windy switchbacks on narrow roads that were literally cut into the sides of mountains. Grinning from ear to ear I stuck to just two gears, second for steep climbs and corners, and third for straightaways between the previous two. The feel of the vehicle made the entire process joyful, the tightly tuned suspension allowing minimal roll in corners and the buttery smooth shifting making me feel like I was racing in some mountainous Grand Prix. Crossing through a single lane tunnel in the side of the highest mountain, we began our descent into the lower lands and on toward the sea. ​

A Sleepy Chanya Airport

Narrow winding roads

Hoping for no oncoming traffic...

Arriving at the Elafonisi Beach well before the masses (it was only 09h00 at this point) we parked close to the entrance with another half dozen cars; by the end of the day there would be hundreds. Walking down the long shoreline we saw faint hints of the notable pink sand, and read signs of the deterioration of its colorful presence due to visitors taking it home with them. The signs poignantly reminded readers that we were borrowing the land from future generations, and to respect it accordingly. Setting up our beach towels on a quieter spot of land across a 50’ wide waist deep river of inlet water, we retained a bit of solitude throughout the day as crowds (and busses) of people arrived in the following hours. I regretted aloud not having taken pictures of the serene landscape when we first arrived, as now there were people everywhere. Temperatures peaked in the low 90s shortly after noon, and we lingered around swimming and reading our books until almost 15h00.

Arriving at Elafonisi Beach

The drive back was far less enjoyable for me due to the swarms of traffic leaving the beaches, but we made it over the mountains in a hour as our GPS directed us to Kissamos, the small town where we would be staying for the next two nights. We met the Airbnb hosts, a woman and her mother, and got checked into the in-law apartment they have behind the main house. For $45 USD per night we have the place to ourselves, access to a washing machine and air conditioning, all while being just two blocks from the beach. After quick showers and starting a load of laundry we walked down to the water and enjoyed an amazing meal at a small local restaurant called Maria’s. We dined on baked feta cheese with peppers and tomatoes, veggie risotto, and a dish called Pastisito, made with macaroni, mashed potatoes, cheese, and minced meat. Both the service and food were exceptional, and the manager surprised us with dessert and a local liqueur as we watched the sunset over the town’s northern bay.

By the time we returned to the apartment it was 22h30, plans in place to wake up early and head to another famous beach on the northwest corner of Crete, hoping to get some photos and footage of the beautiful landscape before countless numbers of people arrived as they had today. Located just 9 miles away the drive is said to take over an hour, which has me eagerly anticipating the kind of terrain we might be crossing to get there.

​With no air conditioning in the Athens Airbnb, a lone fan in the corner of the room tried its hardest to circulate the otherwise stagnant air. I woke up early and used the time and my electric beard trimmer to give myself a quick haircut, a necessity due to the 90+ degree temperatures we’d been seeing thus far. By the 10h00 we had our bags packed and were walking to the rented Suzuki parked a few blocks away. The Airbnb checkout time was noon, and our ferry to Crete didn’t leave until dark; to avoid carrying our gear around all day we extended the rental car by a few hours and used it as storage for our bags.

After a 1 mile walk in the already stifling heat, we found ourselves at the entry gates to the Acropolis. Surrounded by hundreds of other people we showed the park employees our tickets and made our way through the gates and up the hill. The first sight was of the theater, down the steep hill on our right. It’s being used for music festivals throughout the summer, and I enjoyed seeing the way the production equipment was utilized in the literally-ancient space. Continuing up the stone pathway, slippery from hundreds or even thousands of years of people walking on them, we passed through the Propyla, the west-facing stone entrance to the upper portion of the Acropolis. Straight ahead of us were Athena’s temple and the Parthenon. Having seen the latter for years in both media and throughout my public school education, it was nothing shy of spectacular to stand next to and admire this 2,300 year old structure. The myriad of tourists and selfie sticks make it a little harder to truly enjoy the experience, but I felt as if I had a better relationship with the Parthenon than others around me thanks to the 30 minute drone flight I did overtop of it the night before. Dani and I snapped some photos and read all of the surrounding signage, the majority of which talked about the reconstructive and restorative efforts for the buildings. They detailed the removal process of old stone pieces, then lab-based laser scanning for 3D imagery, new piece machining, and ultimately the replacement of new stone into the structures. The grout and filling work the crews do to original pieces is 100% removable and reversible if future technology proves to be superior. All of this was information I found absolutely fascinating and undeniably impressive, though Dani and I had hoped for a little more information on how the Parthenon itself was originally built.

​We descended from high atop the city as temperatures grew higher, stopping for milkshakes at a shaded street-side restaurant. Moving on to visit the Stoa of Attalos and Temple of Hephaestus, we saw hundreds of stone pieces including transcribed laws, statues of political figures, and busts of Gods and Goddesses dating back to between 200 and 500 BC. I questioned aloud who must’ve first drawn these Gods, so that for centuries others could carve and draw them identically, comparing it to Coca-Cola’s 1931 print advertisement drawings of Santa Claus; an influence that lasts throughout global culture to this day. After an We spent the mid afternoon continuing walking through the city streets of Athens, deciding to visit the Hard Rock Cafe for a drink and ultimately staying for a more ‘American’ meal. While the local/regional food here has been delicious, the menus are very monotonous, and I jumped at the opportunity for a BBQ pulled pork sandwich.

The walk back to our car took an hour or so, and we closed in on a total of 6 miles of walking city exploration for the day. We dropped the Suzuki off at Enterprise with enough time to get a relaxing drink at a wine bar before taking a cab to Athens’ Port Piraeus where we met our cruise ship/ferry. For the price of $60 euro each we reserved a private cabin on the Blue Star Line “Blue Galaxy”, a 650’ ship that would carry both passenger, cars, and freight trucks between Athens and the southern island of Crete. For the geographically inclined, Crete is the dividing piece of Greek territory between the country’s mainland and Africa, located just 200 miles north of both Egypt and Libya’s coastlines. We stood on the deck watching the sunset and listening to the muster drill instructions over the ship’s loudspeaker, slowly watching Athens disappear behind us. Engines came to full as we cleared the end of the channel, and we headed back to our berth to sleep quickly, with alarms set early in hopes of being the first off the ship at our arrival port shortly before 06h00. ​

​The sun came screaming in the glass balcony door at 06h00, almost instantly causing the temperature of the room to rise. We sleepily turned on the A/C to combat it, eventually giving in to the heat and waking up to pack our belongings for the day ahead. It was already 86 degrees by the time we were in the car, water bottles replenished and music on loudly at 10h30 as we began the long haul back to Athens.

The towns we passed through on our climb from the seaside were each colorful and very alive with activity, mopeds zipping by and schoolchildren running this way and that. Driving so far has been both fun and challenging as I do my best to respect what little laws it seems they have. An hour or so from Monemvasia we were deep inland, winding through and around some massive peaks that towered over the road. I’d guess these peaks to be 7-8,000 feet each, and their protrusion from the otherwise flat valley was something spectacular to see in person. So many friends have visited Greece and seen only the islands, our backcountry tour between the ocean villages has given us an entirely different experience that I feel privileged to have had. Our only real pit stop during the 4 hour drive was a bathroom break at a little roadside bakery. Dani grabbed a cold Coca-Cola from the fridge and I picked up a freshly made raspberry strudel pastry for myself. By early afternoon we arrived in Athens, and the open roads and limitless freedom of the last two days driving came to a screeching halt as the city streets became packed with traffic and the typical hellish confusion that always seems bustling in major metropolitan area roadways.

Driving towards 8,000-foot peaks

Stopping for strudels

Our Airbnb was not as nice as we had hoped, and the host informed us we had to turn on the water heater at the electrical breaker panel “then leave for half an hour”. I asked if the leaving was for enjoyment of time outdoors or safety reasons, and he didn’t go into detail after saying it was the latter. Combined with the miserable condition of the bathroom itself, we each decided against risking our health and lives just to take a shower. We had a light snack in a nearby shopping district, street vendors everywhere and restaurants galore, each place convincing you that their (nearly identical) menu was the best. The evening was spent high atop Athens from a place called Philopappos Hill, a part of the city park that has an elevated monument to Julius Philopappos, a prominent regional administrator in 114AD. Most importantly the highest point of the hill has a direct and unparalleled view of the Acropolis - perfect for anyone looking to photograph the ancient architecture. I set up my tripod and got the camera ready, reserving our spot as more people arrived, and we talked for a while with a younger UK couple who were on a two week vacation as well. The guy, after asking where we were from, complimented Tom Brady, saying he waits up to watch Sunday American Football in the fall. Conversation turned to the more internationally friendly Formula 1 racing, and we talked about favorite teams and tracks around the world as the sun began to set over Athens. Getting a few photos and some footage with the drone, Dani and I packed up and headed down the hill, ultimately finding an upscale restaurant with an elevated terrace that looked out over the Acropolis, perfect for a nice dinner on our first night in the city. We shared a salmon salad, both surprised to see it came out raw, and an unparalleled gluten free brownie dessert with fresh strawberries and a light caramel drizzle. It was quite the experience to sit there enjoying a meal, our view being straight across to what my arguably be the most recognizable structure in the world, the Parthenon. With a rare opportunity in front of me, I took a moment to fly the drone up over the Acropolis. It was a nerve-wracking experience, but captured some of the most beautiful footage of our entire trip, which I'll share with you in a few weeks once I have it edited.

After putting the camera equipment away, I navigated us back through the city streets with no GPS, Dani somewhat doubting my internal compass but following along nonetheless. Sleep came fast, alarms set for early in hopes of making it up to the Acropolis before the heat made the completely unshaded monument unbearable. To be honest, so far Athens hasn’t blown my sox off, but we shall see if that opinion changes in the morning. ​

​We woke up on day two to the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below the Panorama B&B. Birds were chirping loudly, and the smell of salt water was coming in through the balcony door in the most refreshing way each time a breeze picked up. Still a bit tired we lazily packed up our gear, comprised of two hiking backpacks, her 46L Osprey and my 60L Cold Cold World, a duffle bag, and a small personal backpack. Truthfully I think we did a pretty good job packing for the trip and maintaining mobility with our luggage, which will be very handy when we return the car in a few days and begin traveling by foot and ferry to the southern islands.

Breakfast was served down on the porch at cute little tables looking out over the sea. A trellis roof blocked the sunlight and as we ate Dani got some work emails written while utilizing the free WiFi. We were packed and on the road by 09h45, a little later than we had hoped but not too bad in the grand scheme of things. Our first stop for the day was a sight-seeing adventure just ten minutes down the road at the famous Caves of Diros. We paid $26 for our tickets at a small booth just a few hundred feet from the beach, and after being fitted with fluorescent orange life jackets, headed down a long staircase into the dark entryway to the cave system. Long blue flat bottom boats were lined up ahead of us floating in the immaculately clear water, while stalagmites and jagged rock became visible everywhere around us as the ceiling of the cave opened up expansively. We floated through the half-mile cave system tour route (to date there are nearly 15 miles of caves explored down here) with four other people and our guide, soaking in the beauty of this underground world. The water depth was shallow and the only noise perceivable was the quiet drip of droplets from the ceiling to the water below. At the end of the half hour paddle ride we were dropped off and told to follow a 300m walking path through a different section of caves back to the main entrance. All in all the Diros caves were impressive, but the lack of history or details from the “guide” left us a bit disappointed. By the time we were back at the car the temperature was already in the mid 80s, perfect for windows-down driving as we made our way an hour east to the little town where we’d spend the next night. ​

Caves of Diros - Boat Tour

Caves of Diros - Walking Path

Bay of Dirou

​The drive was beautiful, back up through some of the same mountains as the day before, then splitting onto a different road closer back to Sparti and heading off towards a different more western coastline. The little Suzuki engine tries its hardest in the hills, and I pretend to be Mario Andretti whenever possible, downshifting through the gearbox on curvy descents and letting our tiny blue roller-skate car “lean” into the turns as best it can.

Half an hour out from our destination we came up over a hill on the edge of the Aegean Sea that provided us with a clear view of the bay. I saw something I instantly recognized in the water, a wrecked shipping/cargo vessel rusting away on the shoreline. It’s a ship I’ve seen photos of for years on the internet, and one I had hoped to see during our trip. We pulled off the paved road and followed a dirt path to a small restaurant at the waters edge, each getting a cold drink before walking down the beach to see the wreck. The Dimitrios is/was a 220’ cargo vessel said to have been smuggling cigarettes from Turkey to Italy in the early 80s. They began having troubles both with the ship and its crew, causing them to dock locally, but the Greek government demanded the boat be anchored offshore. During a storm the anchorage let go, and the large ship floated free, pushed inland by the current until it was run aground on this very beach outside the town of Githio. The wreck went completely ignored, and almost 35 years later it’s now just the rusted out carcass of a ship with nothing but intrigued travelers visiting, and the ocean’s waves continually crashing against it. ​

​We arrived in Monemvasia shortly after 15h00, a massively protruding rock island with a centuries old village built into the steep hillside. We drove over the small the bridge dividing Monemvasia from the mainland, at which point we found a little restaurant with a deck overlooking the bay and a menu that looked incredibly appealing. After a relaxed lunch (the pace of life here is refreshingly slow, and I’m doing my best to adjust to it) we walked out to the end of the road on Monemvasia and entered into the old village through a thirty foot stone gateway, the only access point at the end of a tall boundary wall that ran up the side of the islands steep and rocky hillside. Exploring the cobblestone streets reminded me of my time in Venice last year, and after a few hours exploring we headed back to the car to find our Airbnb.

A late afternoon nap refreshed us plenty, and we returned to the small island across the bridge to watch the sunset over a hazy mountain skyline, ultimately finding drinks at a rooftop bar overlooking the sea. Eventually ending up at another rooftop restaurant, The Cannon, we were served a completely customized dinner designed for us by the manager. After a while we became the only patrons left, and dined quietly by faint light while the music changed to a live Pink Floyd album, the sounds of the sea adding to the soundtrack of our evening.

On the way back to the Airbnb we stopped to photograph the Milky Way lingering due south over the ocean, the darkness of the surrounding region allowing the sprawling and colorful comprising stars to shine brightly overhead. It’s always a special moment to see the Milky Way with the naked eye, moments that are only possible in the summer when living in or visiting the northern hemisphere. Dani saw two shooting stars while I was focused on making photographs, and before we knew it it was after 02h00 and we returned to the apartment to call it a night.

Tomorrow we head back to Athens for two days, then turn our sights towards the southern islands Greece is so famous for.

I got a few hours of sleep on the plane after taking the Milky Way photos, and woke up only ten minutes before we were supposed to land. The view out the window was rather fascinating, brown jagged hills stuck up everywhere around us, and I wondered where there would be enough flat space to land a fully loaded A330 aircraft. Our wheels touched down just after 09h45 local time, and we were quickly off the plane and on our way through customs. After seamlessly collecting our bags, we actually ran into a friend of mine from high school who was heading back to Boston with her husband, having spent a week in Santorini on their honeymoon; Dani always likes to point out that there’s hardly a place on the planet I can go without knowing someone.

Our smooth arrival was quickly interrupted by the rental car company asking for a copy of my international drivers license. Dani had made all the arrangements for our Airbnb’s and rental cars, and knowing I had rented a car in Italy last year assumed I had the international license. After a minor heart attack that the first three days of our itinerary would be relocated to a more local plan, I was actually able to utilize my “executive status” (read: “I travel too much” status) at National/Enterprise and secure us a car for a few dollars more without needing the international license... thankfully we were back in business without too much of a headache. Fifteen minutes later we had found the tiny, blue, four-door, stick-shift Suzuki, and after a quick talk with the exceptionally friendly rental lot agent were on our way under our own power. The plan for the day was a three and a half hour drive to a tiny costal town overlooking the Aegean Sea, located on the eastern side of the Mani Peninsula. The drive had no real expedited timeline, and our only planned stop was in the ancient city of Sparti, located almost exactly halfway between the airport and our final destination for the evening, Oitylo.

The highways navigating us south of Athens proper were four lanes wide and relatively empty of traffic, a welcome change from the vehicular headache Boston is. I kept us a little bit over the speed limit traveling down highway E65, as cars passing 40-60+ km/hr faster were whizzing by in the fast lane, and less reliable looking vehicles trudged along in the breakdown lanes. There were a few tolls points of $2.80 each, roughly $3.50 USD, and I utilized the toll booth workers to practice my very poor Greek conversational skills, “hello” and “thank you”, both which got big smiles from the toll agents. We stopped at a highway rest station for bathrooms and to buy a few liters of water for the day. Continuing on, we eased out of the plateaued landscape, skirting by one of the oceanic shipping ports, and began climbing into the mountains.

Had you blindfolded me and taken me here to this exact location, I’d have guessed we were in southwestern Wyoming or even parts of Southern California. The dry hills towered above us as the highway cut into the sides of these mountains through four-lane tunnels. We spent an hour or so in terrain like this, constantly shifting the car between fourth and fifth gear as the 1.4cyl engine worked hard to provide A/C for us, battling the 90-degree heat outside, while climbing and descending the roads. A little while later we took a curvy off ramp exit off of E65 and began a more meandering adventure on the backroads of E961 towards Sparti.

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Driving West

Our Little Blue Clown Car

Shortly before 15h00 we arrived in the quaint town, the speed limit dropping to 40km/hr while luscious green trees began lazily sprawling over the two lane road. Beautiful homes adorned each side with identical off-white exteriors and red clay roofs, colorful flower boxes hanging outside each window and a great many Greek flags flying outside their doors. Following signs for The Fortress, we navigated through the town square and up into the hills where the majority of the famous Sparti ruins remain. Noted as one of the less famous “wonders of the world”, these ruins date back to 400BC and are built into the side of a jagged and rocky mountain. Inside the tall security walls of the compound are deteriorating but surprisingly present buildings that have stood for centuries as monasteries and palaces to those in power, as well as courtyards that served as festival/bazaar grounds to the local townspeople. The mountains behind us stand nearly 6,500 feet tall and tower over the Fortress itself, built at the the highest point of the grounds, while the vast valley lays out ahead of it. It’s easy to understand how the elevated position was a benefit to the Spartans as they were able to see enemies moving across the valley and prepare to stage an attack.

Upon finishing a few hours of exploration around the lower ruins and higher fortress, we headed back down the mountainside, ready to find some sort of early dinner. Between the flight, drive, seven hour time difference, and 4 miles of hiking the Sparti ruins with 500+ feet of climbing, our bodies were becoming very hungry and somewhat confused as to when they were being fed. We pulled off at the first available restaurant, noting the dining balcony and impressive vantage point of the valley floor. Sharing a large Greek salad, tzatziki sauce, and olive oil marinated chicken breast, we enjoyed the views and talked about the days ahead. Family of the restaurant owners were eating at the table behind us, and after some friendly conversation in English we learned they actually live in the Central Florida area, in the small town where Dani grew up. George and his wife Cindy were exceptionally kind and gave us some great local recommendations of places to visit during our trip. We finished our meals, said our goodbyes, and began the remaining hour and a half drive to our final destination, starting with some exceptionally questionable roads out of town courtesy of Google Maps. For a second we actually thought this had become an overland trip, traveling down bumpy dirt roads (nearly bottoming out our tiny Suzuki) and for a moment wondered if we actually had to drive through a small river to stay on the route it was recommending. Thankfully we did not, and the road sharply turned down another narrow path instead, eventually finding ourselves on a main thoroughfare with adequate pavement and normal speed limits.

Hiking the Spartan Ruins

After the roads climbed back out of the Sparti area valley, we continued on until we saw the Aegean Sea for the first time, the sun hanging low on the horizon and ocean water a deep blue hue shining back at us. We made a quick bathroom stop and refueled the tiny car to the tune of $30 Euro despite its kid-sized gas tank (I paid zero attention to actual tank capacity, but now that I’m writing this I am actually intrigued and will report back). Another ten minutes down the road and we arrived at the Panorama Inn, a small six-room bed and breakfast some 20 feet back from a cliff that went straight down to the sea. We were checked in by the owner’s young daughter, shown to our rooms, and after well deserved showers (we had walked just under four miles and climbed 500’ of elevation at the Fortress after the previous night of trans-Atlantic flying), proceeded to both fall asleep in small chairs on our small balcony overlooking the big sea.

Tomorrow we’re going to explore a few local attractions down by the water’s edge before hopping back in the car and proceeding another hour east towards the small oceanside town of Monemvasia. Cameras, drones, and phones are each on the chargers for tomorrow’s adventures, and we’re officially calling day 1 in Greece a success.

​We left on Saturday the 9th in an exceptionally relaxed manner. Calling an Uber to make the ten minute ride to the airport around 11h30in preparation for our 13h00 flight to New York City’s JFK International Airport. The agent at bag check gave me quite the funny look as I checked only a small duffel bag, wondering aloud why I was carrying the largest of my two bags on the plane. It was at this point that I noticed my clothing bag was half the size of my electronics bag. This shouldn’t really surprise anyone, but I got a good laugh out of it. The hope for this trip is to utilize our Mavic Pro drone much more than we did in Canada. If you haven’t yet seen the 45-second highlight reel from the Trans-Canada Overland trip last summer, check out a link here. Editing that short film made me realize the power of the drone itself for catching footage in places I’d otherwise never be able to, so I’m pushing myself to use it to its fullest going forward, starting on this trip to Greece.

Our connecting flight to New York went off without a hitch, and we spent our two hours at JFK on Delta’s roof-deck lounge that overlooks the international flights terminal. This is always enjoyable for me as I love to point out planes and track their destinations (If you don’t know this, I’m a little bit of a commercial aviation nerd). At 16h00 we began boarding the plane, an Airbus A333, that would be carrying the two of us and 291 of our newest acquaintances across the Atlantic Ocean. I watched TV and Dani enjoyed a movie as pasta and chicken dinners were served, shortly after which the cabin lights were turned off and many went to sleep. We flew into the darkness of the night, 39,000 feet over the ocean and 25 miles in front of, and behind, the nearest trans-Atlantic flight, flying through the sky like ants marching between colonies.

Shortly after Dani shut her iPad off and reclined the chair to sleep, I was staring out the window at the stars. Now that the majority of the cabin was asleep I was able to see in much greater detail than beforehand, immediately recognizing the Milky Way sprawling out across the sky. I usually sit on the left side of European bound flights, in hopes of catching the northern lights from my window seat, but at the time of booking all that were available in our class were souther facing seats. I didn’t think of this then, but it gave me the most incredible view of the Milky Way. As a photographer I typically spend time under it, aiming the camera up to capture the height of its beauty. Being six miles up in the air gave me an unparalleled view, and I instantly knew I needed to try and photograph it. The funny part of this is that the cards were epically stacked against me; photographing the Milky Way from a tripod on the surface of the earth can be exceptionally hard in itself, and here I was moving at nearly 600 miles an hour in an airplane that even in its smoothest moments is still somewhat bouncy. Keeping a camera still and the shutter open long enough to absorb any amount of usable Milky Way light was going to be a heck of a problem. Needless to say that after 50+ test shots, I was finally able to capture a non-blurry image, the camera held solely in my hands and pressed against the window, while I did my best to hold my jacket over my head and block out the ambient pollution from reading lights and a few scattered TV screens still on in the cabin.

For those photography folks that read this, I will include some spec details on the image below. A ‘normal’ photo I take of the Milky Way is done on a tripod, usually at f/2.8, ISO3200 or so, and a shutter time of 30 seconds with my 14mm, or 20” with my 24mm lens, adjusted accordingly to ensure the sky doesn't move too much to blur the stars in the photo. It takes a few tries to get focus on point, but those settings usually return a great image. The photo I took on this flight was handheld (no tripod), at f/2.8, ISO12800, and a shutter time of a whopping 8 seconds. I did this while holding my breath and trying not to move in the slightest, and I guess it finally paid off. The image itself isn’t perfect, but the science and situation behind it make it truly spectacular to me.

Once I’d accomplished making this photograph to the best of my abilities I put my headphones in, turned on some quiet music, and fell fast asleep. If there’s one thing I’m good at in this world it’s sleeping on airplanes, and I had five more hours in-flight to make use of that talent. ​

It's been quite a while since I've had a chance to write anything for 2180miles itself, and I've been missing it. Work has been crazy over the last few months, and has unfortunately left me with little time to myself. Thankfully, Saturday will bring a brief end to this mayhem.

On the afternoon of June 9th, Dani and I will be taking off for two weeks traveling around Greece. She had expressed to me her interest in going well over a year ago, but was happy to let the Trans-Canada Overland trip be our 2017 summer adventure, in exchange for which I promised we'd explore Greece this year. She has planned us a fantastic 13 day itinerary during which we'll travel around via rental car, ferries, and our own feet visiting Athens and a half-dozen of the southern islands like Crete, Mykonos, and Santorini. We made a trip to downtown Boston's REI store a few weeks ago and got her outfitted with an Osprey 46L pack which will be perfect for the trip and future hiking excursions. I'll be carrying one of my 60L bags, and for the first time in my life I think I might leave my laptop at home and solely bring my iPad for blogging. Rest assured I'm bringing two cameras (and probably my drone), and will be taking notes throughout so there will be blog posts to come detailing hikes and visited ruins, alongside what I hope to be some spectacular imagery.​

The view from our upcoming Airbnb - Santorini, Greece

The other big piece of news to announce is our recent engagement. On May 25th I rented out the entirety of Boston Public Library (Dani's favorite place in the entire city) staged a fictitious event featuring an Emily Brontë book collection on display (her favorite author), and asked her to be my life's greatest adventure. ​Thankfully, she said yes.

So that's it... a bit of news from my world. We do have a few other trips planned with the Overland club this summer, and should have some time hiking up in New Hampshire's White Mountains as well. The Jeep is getting a hardshell roof-top tent for when we're camping out of it, large enough to fit both of us with plenty of room inside for sleeping bags, pillows, and misc. gear. It's waterproof, aerodynamic, and sets up in under 60 seconds... the latter of which is a key feature that should make our overland trips, whether an overnight or month-long adventure, easier and more pleasant in many regards.